"Nothing more," said the child. "Shall I go to him again to-morrow, dear grandfather? Very early. I will be there and back before breakfast." The old man shook his head, and drew her towards him. "’Twould be of no use, my dear. But if he deserts me, Nell, at this moment, if he deserts me now, I am ruined; and worse—far worse than that—have ruined thee. If we are beggars—" "What if we are?" cried the child boldly. "Let us be beggars, and be happy." "Beggars—and happy!" said the old man. "Poor child!" "Dear grandfather," cried the girl, with flushed face and trembling voice, "I am not a child, I think; but even if I am, oh, hear me pray that we may beg, or work in open roads or fields, to earn a scanty living, rather than live as we do now." "Nelly!" said the old man. "Yes, yes, rather than live as we do now," said the child. "If you are sad, let me know why, and be sad too; if you waste away, and are paler and weaker every day, let me be your nurse and try to comfort you. If you are poor, let us be poor together; but let me be with you, do let me be with you. Do not let me see such change and not know why, or I shall break my heart and die. Dear grandfather, let us leave this sad place to-morrow, and beg our way from door to door." The old man covered his face with his hands, and hid it in the pillow of the couch on which he lay. "Let us be beggars," said the child, passing an arm round his neck. "I have no fear but we shall have enough. I am sure we shall. Let us walk through country places, and sleep in fields and under trees, and never think of money again, or anything that can make you sad, but rest at nights, and have the sun and wind upon our faces in the day, and thank God together. Let us never set foot in dark rooms or houses any more, but wander up and down wherever we like to go; and when you are tired you shall stop and rest in the pleasantest place that we can find, and I will go and beg for both." The child’s voice was lost in sobs as she dropped upon the old man’s neck; nor did she weep alone. Meanwhile Quilp had entered the room unseen, and skipping upon a chair, placed himself upon the back with his feet on the seat. Then he looked at the two with a leer upon his face. Turning, the old man saw him, and asked how he came there. "Through the door," said the dwarf. "I wish to have some words with you alone." Nell looked at her grandfather, who nodded, and she left the room. "Have you brought me any money?" asked the old man. "No," said Quilp; "and, neighbour, you have no secret from me now. To think that I should have been blinded by a mere gambler!" "I am no gambler," said the old man. "I played to win a fortune for Nell. Do not desert me. I only need a few pounds to make good my losses and to win wealth in plenty." But the dwarf would not listen to the old man’s pleading. He had come, he said, to claim his own. The shop and its contents were his, and he meant to take them over at once.